


The Little Wife

by LadyBookwormWithTeeth



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Biting, Body Worship, Coitus Interruptus, F/M, Fluff, Lady Belle, PWP, Rimming, Rumbelle - Freeform, Sexual Frustration, Sir Rumple, Teasing, ass worship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-13
Updated: 2015-07-13
Packaged: 2018-04-09 05:40:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,419
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4336016
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyBookwormWithTeeth/pseuds/LadyBookwormWithTeeth
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>PWP time with Lady Belle and Sir Rumple.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Little Wife

**Author's Note:**

> a reply to this anonymous prompt: “unlacing, and then unbelting, and then slooowly pulling down his pants. And taking his ass-cheeks in her hands, and squeeezing, kneading, biting, eating, devouring, scratching, stroking, kissing, spanking his butt – sighing "You have the prettiest ass of the world!" And groaning "I want to ... you!"
> 
> MaddieBonanaFana did the beta, as always.

All the power of the universe, and yet Belle's voice ordering him to be still was enough to make him stop squirming, though there was nothing he wanted more than to magic the tight and uncomfortable leather away with a snap of his fingers. Instead, she unbuckled his belt slowly, that wicked smile on her lips. The moment the pressure on his waist was lifted, he took a deep breath and tried again. “I could make this easier,” he suggested, fingers trying to take a hold of her hands, but being easily overpowered by the little woman in the yellow dress.

She moved on the bed to stand upright and hold his hands above his head with all the strength she had, which was so little that the effort was quite endearing. He didn’t fight her though. He never did. Without letting go of him, Belle lowered herself to touch the tip of his nose with her lips, saying, “Now, where is the fun in that?”

“You're cruel.”

“And you wear too many layers.”

She slid her fingers down the sleeves of his shirt and the leather of his vest, until she found the belt again. When she was done pulling it free, she folded it twice and held it in her hands. “This is new.”

Though she wasn't asking, he still said, “Yes,” his eyes on the belt she held in her tiny, delicate hands. She lowered the loop to caress his thigh and he closed his eyes and sighed at the faint tickling on his skin. He could barely feel it, so softly she was pressing it, but those small pleasures she granted him could make him come undone with the promises they held.

“I don't think we broke this in yet,” she wondered, sounding so perfectly innocent it was unnerving. “Which is a pity. Such sturdy leather.”

“Indeed,” he agreed, trying to keep his breathing under control. “We shouldn't let this stand any longer.”

“Oh, we can be patient.”

He whined when he saw her put the belt away, ready to complain or beg or whatever was working best on his cruel little wife that day. Instead, he startled when her hands brushed his erection over the fabric of his pants, her quick fingers wrapping themselves around the laces. Her phantom touch was torture and it was enough to make his mind go blank. When she finally freed him, she did it by slowly pulling his pants down, savoring the way his eyes screwed themselves shut and his teeth sank down on his lower lip to keep any sounds from coming out.

“Don’t hold back, sweetheart,” she rasped. “I love the sound of your voice.”

Rumpelstiltskin knew that to be true. She spent enough time trying to get loud reactions out of him. Didn’t mean he was proud of becoming a whimpering mess in her arms, making sounds no respectful knight should make in front of a lady. If anything, his first reaction was always to press his lips together and try to retain some modesty.

But Belle had never been one to give up easily.

The tips of her nails brushed over his thigh and started making their way up.

“Look at me, love,” she asked, slowing down her hand and waiting for him to comply.

His eyes opened slowly to stare at the ceiling for a second. Then, he forced his neck to move so he could find her eyes. Her cheeks were flushed and he could see her breasts heaving, fighting the tightness of her corset. Her face, however, was placid.

“Will you stay still for me?” she asked.

His heart started racing when he noticed her hand moving again, making its way up to his erection. He barely had enough breath to answer, “Yes.”

“Very still?”

“ _Yes_.”

Her nails brushed his groin and, for a brief moment, he could feel the heat of her skin _almost_ touching him where he needed it the most. But that was gone within seconds, leaving him to whimper pitifully and curl his hands into fists – anything to keep himself from moving.

“You’re so good, love,” she said.

His vest and shirt followed the rest of his clothes much more quickly, but whatever touch he got was fleeting. When she ordered him to turn around, the feeling of the sheets against his manhood was almost a relief.

A fingernail slid down his spine, making him buck his hips, eager for a little friction.

“No,” she warned him. “No moving yet.”

His hands flexed at the edge of the mattress, but he did as he was told.

Her knuckles brushed over the skin of his left buttock. As soft as it was, the touch was enough to make his heart skip a beat.

“My poor husband,” she cooed him. “Riding your horse all day. I hope you're not too sore.”

He knew she wanted to hear him plead. Something along the lines of, “No, honey, I'm good, please, don't stop, just, don't.”

Instead, he armed himself with his most cynical voice and replied, “Now that you mentioned, my dear, I am a little bit tired. Shall we reconvene in the morning?”

Behind him, there was a moment of silence as his wife thought of an appropriate answer.

She decided biting down hard on his ass was appropriate enough.

“You tease,” she said, emerging for a second before biting down again.

Rumple laughed. “You started it!”

“You little tease!” she continued, moving on to the other cheek. She held the skin between her teeth a little longer, pulling at it, refusing to let go before he said, “Ow!” Her tongue soothed the fresh mark, but soon her teeth would capture new skin to brand, followed by another lick as soon as he complained.

The moment her tongue found the cleft between his cheeks was unexpected and made him gasp and bury his face into a pillow. She might appreciate the sound of his helpless voice, but damn if he’d risk waking up the baby now. Belle must have found it to be quite prudent on his part as well, because instead of a verbal warning – or a warning in the form of a slap, which was his favorite kind – she kept on licking, both hands with a firm grasp on his cheeks, squeezing almost to the point of pain and then letting go.

“Belle,” he tried to moan, but the pillow muffled the sound of her name, and any other sounds that followed. Not moving was no longer an option and he rolled his hips to the rhythm of her tongue, slow and insistent and so very, very good. By the time she pushed back to trail his spine with kisses, he was already breathless. Against his ear, she sighed, “You have the prettiest ass in all the realms.”

Rumple knew he was turning red, but he didn't care. “And what are you going to do about it?”

Belle hummed, considering her options, or at least pretending to. He had a guess that she spent most of her afternoons either dreaming of adventures they could partake once the baby was older, or coming up with new ways to torture him for her personal amusement. “What I want to do is spread you wide open...” Her legs came between his and started parting them, fabric rustling against his skin. “And I want to keep you pinned down...” She forced her butterfly weight down on his back. He could tell that her breasts had finally slipped out of the corset, her nipples hard and teasing him. “And, if you're _very, very_ good, and if you ask _very, very_ nicely...” she pushed her hips against his, drawing a sigh out of her husband just with the promise of things to come, “then I might even consider f-”

And that was as far she got before the baby started crying.

“No, no, no, no, no,” he said, pushing himself up, dislodging her in the process. Belle was tossed aside with a little squeal and he got ready to snap his fingers.

“Rumple!” she said, forcing his hand down. “No magic on the baby!”

“No, no, it's fine, he'll be fine- No, back to bed!”

But she was up on her feet already. “It won't take more than a few minutes.”

He groaned and sank into the pillow.

“Just be glad I'm not making you do it. You wait here.”

“Right,” he agreed, sighing with frustration as he watched her walk away. “More waiting...”

 


End file.
